


and robin shall restore amends

by masamune11



Series: Leeayre's PersonaVerse AU [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Persona, Gen, Separation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-11-04 20:01:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10997973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masamune11/pseuds/masamune11
Summary: --as quoted from Shakespeare'sMidsummer Night's Dream.Robin was never meant to be anyone’s, truly, because he belonged to the children. It was only a matter of time until his vessel fell out of sync and graduated to something else.With someone else.(Companion piece tothere is no difference between a wish and a curse, denoting Robin's perspective from (even) before the fic to the end.A fic based onLeeayre's PersonaVerse AU.)





	1. the beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Leeayre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leeayre/gifts).



> ...Many liberties were taken in the writing of this piece, including but not limited to: minor context of SMT: Persona 3, freeform origin ideas, and more freeform persona concepts.
> 
> This one is designed to have 1.3k to 1.5k words per chapter because work sucks; it's a miracle if I could write that much _at all_ per week (I'm doing weekly writing exercise at the moment). Corporation sucks inspiration out of you, I swear.
> 
> To Leeayre, I completely understand that I may have one-sidedly interpreted and expanded your Persona concepts and world-building. If you feel uncomfortable with this arrangement, please let me know.

**[1]**

Robin never knew the exact moment he was born to the world, but he remembered the throbbing hum of children's wishes for toys, for friends, or for a never-ending summer. Back then, he was just… _there_ , a nameless _universal_ thing that symbolized children’s hopes, swimming among ideas and thoughts born from humanity’s spirit.

It changed, however, with the awakening of the Dark Knight.

He was still a little formless thing without name then, tethered to the carcass that _Batman_ left in its wake (because Bruce Wayne was once a child, too, so the boy's wishes were a part of him—the same wishes that fell apart and crumbled to dust when his parents tragically met their end). Every time Batman came out to put fear into the heart of evil, the sheer relief and joy coming out of the people he saved _fed_ the Wish.

Everything changed when the other boy came.

Richard Grayson was everything that Bruce _could have been_ , had the man not lost his parents to that tragic night. Though he was also touched by tragedy at such a young age, the boy still managed to burn through his sadness with a smile. He was a natural performer, an army of one that delivered shows of his own as if his purpose was to smother spectators with happiness.

The boy was a beacon, and the Wish could not help but be drawn towards him.

The nearer the Wish gravitated around the boy, the more he understood the motivation that made Richard Grayson: that he was a boy who loved to entertain, that he liked to smile because his mother taught how smiles could light someone else’ life—

—that he breathed anger despite his playful grin, that he desired closure, that he wanted to be the one who delivered _justice_ towards the man who screwed his life over.

(So much like _Bruce_.

Maybe that was the reason why the Wish gravitated towards the boy in the first place.)

Thus the Wish came to the boy. The boy gave him a name: _Robin._

(Bruce strongly opposed Robin's choice, claiming that Grayson was still just a _boy_. Robin remembered laughing shrilly, so in contrast with how Dick laughed, and then wisely stopping when Batman gave him _the_ look. It did not wipe the amused grin nor the outlandish giddiness.

“Oh Bruce, as much as you want to deny _this,_ I _know_ you desire _a partner_ in your quest.” He exclaimed, a knowing look directed at the vessel who bore  _Batman_.

“I _know_ , because a part of me, the one _you_ shaped your wish to be, was born from what Batman left behind. Just as much as Batman will reflect you, Bruce, a part of my nature will always reflect _you_ too—at least the _you_ before the crusade.”)

* * *

**[2]**

Dick was a _menace_ .

He swung, he jumped, he _flew_ (and _fell_ , a whisper of ‘ _don't tell Bruce okay?_ ’ afterwards), he whined, he butchered languages (English, other times Romani), he twirled, he danced, he laughed—everything that he did represent how children should behave: carefree, mischievous, fun, and _bright_. Robin could be more wrong in thinking that the boy was similar to _little_ _Bruce_ ; Dick was far too active, so different from what the man had been, and it showed in how he _colored_ Robin: green for hope, yellow for laughter, and black for fear.

(Black, because no one could escape tragedy unscathed, not even a child as bright as Dick Grayson.)

It was the first time that someone—his progenitor aside— _molded_ him in another’s image. Robin savored the feeling altogether whenever and wherever he could. Sometimes he giggled with no particular reason when he and Dick were swinging from one building to another, earning a confused nudge from his vessel. Sometimes, Robin would do an extra aerial flip if only to appreciate the boy’s capability, never failing to pull a chuckle or two from the boy.

Sometimes, he would pull a prank on the _Batman_  if only to see if he could get away with it. (Spoiler warning: it did not end well. _At all_ .)

Having Dick as his vessel was  _exhilarating._

It did not last long.

Robin understood, of course; he was never meant to be Dick’s, truly, because he belonged to _the children_. It was only a matter of time until their paths diverged. He just did not expect it to happen right after  _the Curse_ —right after they lost _Barbara’s smile_.

Robin still remembered the moment when _Batgirl_ was ripped out of Barbara’s grip, a sudden twist at the edge of his and Dick’s senses as she was savagely ripped and altered. Both of them witnessed how ideas can be crushed and unmade, the backlash reverberating in the realm of unconsciousness so profoundly that Robin could still feel the faint _fear_ underneath humanity’s psyche altogether. Batman was able to Banish the damned Curse in the end, though Robin didn’t feel like they won the war.

Not with how much they sacrificed; not when Barbara had to pay with both her  _feet_ and  _Batgirl_.

Batman became more apprehensive since then, barring Robin from general patrol so many times that Robin had to deal with the boy’s whining _every night_. The one time they _did_ , they got _sloppy_ , and Dick was injured in their unfortunate run-in against _the Two-Face_.

It took only one _mistake_ ; Batman immediately benched Robin, much to the boy’s dismay. Oh, Robin knew that it would never stop Dick from going against that one order; the signs pointing that _the boy wanted to be more_ were there, just as transparent as his changing motivations… and his outlook.

(“I don’t want to be helpless anymore, Robin,” Dick quietly confessed, his voice baring his distress left by the tragedy that was _The Curse_ , “And I will do whatever it takes to do what must be done—even without Batman’s support.”

The ‘ _even without you_ ’ remained unsaid, but Robin knew it was in the air. He could have said something about this, could have _begged_ Dick not to _run away_ , because _shouldn’t their partnership worth more than_ this _?_

Instead, he gave the boy a hug—a comfortable pressure around his upper body—and breathed his farewell, “ _Don’t do anything stupid, you hear me?_ ”

The boy’s laughter was a thing to behold, one that Robin would treasure forever.)

Richard  _Wished_ to _fly_ with his own wings—to be independent, to act by his own will, to prove the world that _he could change it._

(To be unlike his guardian, who was so driven by that one tragedy that the man refused to _live_ .)

So Robin held his breath and quietly _let the boy go_.

* * *

**[extra]**

“I knew it,” Robin huffed, folding his ( _Jason’s_ ) hands in exasperation as he glared at the Persona possessing the boy— _man_ now, he supposed—who started _everything_. “I only asked him _one_ thing—not to do anything _stupid_ , for your information—what did he do? He outright turned into _Batman_ .”

Nightwing, still freshly born—still learning about the world around him and the host that made him _be_ —only blinked in confusion and said, “I don’t understand what you mean, Robin. Surely you know that I am not Batman.”

“Says the Persona in black, commanding shadows wherever he can,” Robin muttered in exasperation. Nightwing chuckled, much to the other’s surprise, and put his hand over his chest… where his blue symbol rested.

“Not _Batman,_  Robin. Something else,” the Persona declared, his next words softer than before, “Batman doesn’t have _this_ .”

Robin stared at the blue symbol, remembering how _green was just another shade of blue_ —another shade of _hope_ —and then laughed.

“No, I suppose he doesn’t.”

Because Dick Grayson brought hope within him; Bruce Wayne preferred to keep his hope at arm’s length. Therein laid their difference—one that Robin would forever revel in because  _the boy got it_.

The outcome made the painful separation worth it.


	2. the second host

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I won’t leave you to face this alone, Jason,” Robin promised, to himself more than to the vessel hosting his presence, “You can have me for as long as you need.”

**[3]**

In the city where despair seemed to devour what little hope its dwellers had for security and safety, it was a miracle that there existed a wild spark burrowed in the stinky bowels of Gotham. It defiantly glimmered despite its bleak surrounding, figuratively spitting at the evil existing beyond its reach.

It was a wish borne by a child. And like any other wishes of the children, Robin knew of this existence… and of the boy who fervently, albeit unconsciously, built it to be. And just like any other wishes, it suffered from Gotham’s wiles.

(There was a brokenness in Gotham that pushed its dwellers to an edge, culling down their innocence along with their wishes. Sometimes, those wishes would simply fade away, no longer be upheld nor envisioned. Other times, there were exceptions—the wishers’ will latching onto the wishes amidst Gotham’s wickedness—in which the wishes lingered and then metamorphosed into something else. Some became Personas, while others degenerated into Curses.)

What set this wish apart from others was the  _spite_ it held towards the city, revealed in its persistence to keep on shining as if to refuse the City’s will to  _die and be forgotten_. It was nothing like Bruce’s nor Dick’s… and Robin could not help but be curious.

(Bruce’s  _Batman_ was born through the breaking of a child’s Wish in the face of Gotham’s violence—tragedy that beat the innocence out of the Persona’s core. Dick’s  _Nightwing_ was born through his desire to  _break free_ —to walk away from the shadow cast by the Dark Knight—and do what needed to be done by his own terms. Both Personas were born through fire, broken down by Gotham’s might, and then returned stronger.

This one Wish—the wish of one Jason Todd—however, remained  _constant_. Its innocence remained intact despite the tragedy that befell the owner again  _and again_.)

So Robin observed, witnessing how Gotham tried to extinguish this spark of a wish. Whenever the spark seemed to meet its end, it rose back to being, stronger than berfore.

Robin concluded that the owner possessed an unyielding will.

Then he noticed the undercurrent of anger fuelling that shine and rescinded his judgment.

(A wish was not forgotten overnight; Gotham—at least, the subconsciousness of Gothamites—systematically beat down wishes of the innocents continuously. The longer they suffered, the stronger they eventually became, as if the city’s cruel tendencies were trials for the unchallenged.

Jason’s wish had survived for so long that Robin feared its eventual downfall; anger was one emotion amongst others that could easily point the Wish’ transformation into a Curse after all.)

When Jason Todd walked into the sight of his dead mother, the grief choking the hope out of his wish, Robin decided to step into Jason’s psyche. The Persona expected a certain degree of resistance, but he never expected that the boy strongly tried to deny his intrusion; Jason’s mindscape harshly pressed on him, trying to expulse the Persona away, out of self-preservation. The overflowing grief swirling around Robin blurred his senses, loosening his grip on Jason's rapidly-despairing psyche. But he remained vigilant, barrelling all of his willpower to hold the boy’s consciousness down.

Jason’s psyche kept on thrashing against his hold.

 _Dammit_.

It took longer than what Robin was comfortable with, but Jason eventually submitted to the Persona’s compulsion. Grief still raged within the boy’s mindscape, but Robin managed to coax the boy to sleep it off, silently urging him to deal with his crumbling reality later.

(There was a quiet plea of _‘don’t leave me, please’_ before the boy completely went under.)

That was the moment that Robin gained complete control of the boy's body. Robin tentatively touched both of his cheeks, wet from tears ( _Jason’s_ ), and let himself be awed; he had never faced a child so stubborn, so defined of himself, that he adamantly rejected Robin's compulsion, clinging control of his body long enough to  _cry in grief_.

_Such stubbornness, I can’t even—_

Robin let out a weary sigh and pushed his thoughts aside; he would think about this situation later after everything settled down. Mission accomplished: he managed to interfere with the transformation of a wish into a curse and safeguard him from potential rogue Wishes.

Now. To prevent the boy’s Wish from turning completely into a Curse.

“I won’t leave you to face this alone, Jason,” Robin promised, to himself more than to the vessel hosting his presence, “You can have me for as long as you need.”

* * *

  **[4]**

If Dick was a  _menace_ , then Jason was  _Complication™_.

Despite his superb affinity as Robin's host (he could still feel the undercurrent  _giddiness_ in his core even when he released his hold over the boy), Jason had unconsciously built walls around his psyche, and they only served to hinder Robin from fully functioning. It often created friction between them, so frequently that Robin overrode the boy’s will more times than he preferred.

Eventually, he learnt that the walls were built from the boy's withered wishes—that Jason was once a boy filled with so many dreams and desires that might have flourished under different circumstances. He had so many of them, shot down and killed off until what remained was the only belief that  _justice would always be delivered_. Jason must have fought for that one wish all his life, tempering his will into  _steel_ that was strong enough to defend that singular belief.

He also learnt  _the hard way_ that Jason instinctively had control over those walls.

It all started with a mob trying to eviscerate both of them… and a Jason’s lingering insecurity that reared its head in the least preferred moment. They were supposed to save a kid who was about to be trafficked away when a hypnosis-induced mob surrounded them. Then came the cavalry in the form of Nightwing himself, the adrenaline rush quickly turning into jealousy, blended with a heavy dose of  _insecurity_.

Robin  _blindly_ put the signs aside (he _shouldn’t have done that)_ and focused his attention to the mysterious grocery receipt with a creepy “HAHAHAHA” word written in blood. He was so engrossed with his thought that the Persona failed to notice the subtle shift of his grip on Jason's body… followed by quickly-forming walls of the boy's mindscape. Before he could even so much react, the walls already closed onto the Persona from all sides and trapped him in place.

There was a harsh yank, an invisible force pulling him out from where he stood, and, suddenly, the Persona lost control of Jason’s body… and  _of his own abilities and skills altogether_. At the control of the front seat was his vessel, unsure of what just happened.

Jason freaked out, of course.

(Not that Robin admitted that he  _did too_. Okay, so maybe he  _was_ shocked, but considering the potential that Jason had? Robin wouldn’t be surprised if the boy was capable of hijacking a Persona’s skills—as well as its control—and made them his own.)

Robin quietly sat back, noticing every fumble that the boy made with every swing and landing. It was as if all of Jason’s training was thrown out of the window; the boy was completely running on adrenaline, leaning more on his flight instinct—

—which was a  _very bad idea_  at the moment because Jason was  _not in the right state of mind_  and, just happened to pick a move he was still practicing with. One particular swing at the wrong pivot did him badly, the hook of his grappling gun slipping away from where it was supposed to be. Needless to say, Robin was internally screeching as Jason free-fell in the air.

Oh, Robin was entitled to scream internally because he was still trapped, within Jason’s Walls of Repressed Anger, and had no control of Jason’s motor function. If the boy did not survive tonight— _well_.    

There was a string of curses (Robin should wash the boy’s mouth once this fiasco was over), and then the sound of another grappling gun (the boy loved to stash some spares) being shot to the nearest pole. The boy made another swinging arc, just before he landed on Von Grunwald Tower.

Was Robin glad?  _Very_.

“ _This is some sort of payback, isn’t it?”_ the Persona complained (and  _no_ , he certainly did not  _whine)_ , “For _that time when I first took you over?”_

The boy did not respond, much to Robin's worry. Confusion reigned over much of the boy's thoughts, weakening the walls hold on the Persona (much to Robin's surprise) enough to let him test his boundaries—and control. At this point, Robin could have surged out of his forced captivity and took back his control.

The Persona opted not to do so; the last thing he needed was further ire from the boy who managed to disrupt their synchronization.

“ _Jason,_ ” Robin asked carefully, “ _Are you alright?”_

Jason did not exactly  _groan_ , but his frantic movements to check on why he was still in Robin's outfit while remaining in control might as well give him away.

“Shit what just—” a frank pause, perhaps his brain catching up to the fact that his Persona was still  _stuck_ at the back of his head _,_ and then a  _real_ exasperated groan, “I have no fucking idea what just happened.”

Between snorting in amusement and giving unamused look, Robin decided to go with the former. So Robin mentally huffed a breath, and then  _smirked_ , because _how come this boy does not realize his true power—his unique potential?_

“You _happened, that’s what,”_ Robin smugly answered, earning him  _the glare_ from his own vessel, alongside with the signature are-you-kidding-me mental glare. It only pushed him to cackle (perhaps in amusement, perhaps in irony) that stopped only when the boy finally grumbled with dissatisfaction.

No use in pulling his legs further, he supposed.

“ _There are so many children in Gotham that wish me to exist, Jay, and even more to pick from so that I can keep the show going_ ,” Robin stated, feeling Jason's mindscape around him shifted along with his words—repelling the anger away but inviting new insecurities in.  _Not again._

Robin sighed, almost dreamily, “ _Yet of all the children out there, have you ever asked yourself why I chose you?”_

Then came the fear that completely demolished his hold over the Persona, the walls quickly crumbling away as it lost the will that glued them together. Robin could see the silhouette of the boy's thoughts: of being  _left behind_ , of being a _failure_ , of  _not being able to live up to_ Robin's  _expectation_.

_Silly Jason._

So the Persona gently embraced him, softly pushing him to the ground so that Jason could focus on the stars above—to make him focus on Robin because  _he wanted to tell the boy that. He. Was. Wrong._

“I chose you because you’re special, Jay,” Robin said, mentally glaring at the shadows hung over his mindscape—his fears, his insecurities, his feelings of worthlessness—and clutched upon the boy harder, to remind Jason again and _again_.  
  
“And eventually, you will accept that as true.”

Because his watch on Jason might start out as a mission, but Robin eventually grew on this boy, who carried with him a persistence that he never knew to exist. It made him eager to stay, to shoo those shadows away, for as long as the boy wished him to  _stay_.


	3. the third party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin knew well enough that the past never stayed dead, but he just wished _(ha)_ that, when it resurfaced, the world would remain intact.
> 
> (Who was he trying to convince?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised a weekly update and failed miserably. I have no excuse.
> 
> Okay, I have an excuse, but it'll be the cliche life's-hectic-yo! excuse, so I wouldn't put it here. formally. Everyone's busy in their life, one way or another.
> 
> Unbeta'ed (as usual?!), but please enjoy. Let me know if there are typos, weird wordings, or wrongly executed sentences areound, so that I could kill them myself.

 

**[5]**

Robin knew well enough that the past never stayed dead, but he just wished ( _ha_ ) that, when it resurfaced, the world would remain intact.

(Who was he trying to convince?)

Judging how the recent case rang too similar to  _that case_ , the Persona had a hunch that the time of reveal was almost at hand… and its signs, unsurprisingly, came from Jason.

For the last few days after the incident—the one in which Jason overrode Robin's control of his own body—the teen had been _eerily_ quiet. The Persona couldn't exactly fault him for wanting some personal time to sort out his problems, but it had been so long that Robin couldn't help but _worry_. When the fourth night since the teen’s mental sabbatical _came,_ though, it was not without a curveball of its own—a question that certainly pulled the rug under Robin: “ _What is the curse_?”

Robin was about to swing to R.H. Building when the teen raised that question, almost losing his footing as he abruptly stopped himself. He could sense that the boy was alarmed (Robin _did_ almost slip from his footing) though Jason kept quiet, apparently waiting on the Persona’s answer.

The images of Barbara’s agony came to the forefront of his thoughts as if they asked to be told first, but Robin wisely shoved it away. He would start at the beginning—better to start from the crisp, _straight_  beginning—and then move on to the next story, while silently hoping that he would not need to mention the grievous tragedy in detail.

“The Curse,” Robin started somberly, stopping a moment to hold back from adding anything personal, “It is a malevolent Persona born of negative thoughts. It is as ancient as humankind, Jay, and it will remain for as long as people breathe."

Jason threw him an imaginary-but-real dubious _look_ , and the Persona bet that the teen wanted so much to leap with more _questions_. But Jason, surprisingly, chose to let the unsaid questions slide and stated, “ _You make it sound close, like it is personal, Robin._ "

Robin held his breath and closed his eyes.

(He remembered the mad laughter belonging to a certain Curse, the blood-red words written over the circus’ tarpaulins, and _people_ —so many _innocents_ , drugged to the point of lunacy. There was fire too, as the Curse burned the makeshift circus stage down, and cruelties that sealed Barbara's fate. Such was the madhouse that the Curse created—one in which Robin did _nothing_.)

"It's a long story, one best told by Batman,” he duly replied, “Or Oracle."

Jason was, as expected, not buying what he said, proceeding to joke a little bit if only to disperse sombreness in the air. The teen even managed to draw out a laugh, mirthless as it might be, and certainly signaled that he would not let the matter go—not when something similar was happening around them.

Well. Robin supposed that he could share something—without poking old wounds.

"The Curse has many incarnations, Jay. It doesn't have to be around every time, but history has proven over and over that it resurfaced along a time when humanity's virtue is at its lowest. And it will always assume a new name, Jay. Always a different mantel... Always a new Persona."

There was a wish made by a child living somewhere in the Narrows—a plea for help against her violator. Robin accordingly shifted his route.

"The recent one called himself the Joker," Robin continued as he shot his grappling hook and swung away. The wish grew closer—stronger—and Robin thrived with it. "Batman and I banished him not so long ago, before Dick and I went our separate ways."

(He remembered Barbara lying in her own pool of blood, what was left of Batgirl’s bodice flickering into nothingness, and _screaming in agony_. The Joker had purposefully torn the Persona away from her vessel, and then proceeded to psychologically mutilate her aspects until there was _almost_ nothing left.

He remembered the overflowing grief, outweighed only by the relief coming from the Joker’s banishment.)

" _Huh_ ," a sign of understanding coming from the teen, and then another muse, " _You know, for such a dangerous Persona, I was expecting a flashier name._ "

Robin couldn’t help but laugh to that.

"Couldn't agree with you more, Jay," Robin shook his head in amusement as he took another swing. From the corner of the street, he could see the wish-maker being harassed by a group of high school teenagers. Robin quietly sneaked closer, just somewhere among the railings and short-building roofs, and mentally counted. He could get a drop on the perpetrator and escaped with more than three ways to escape any unfavorable situations.

“Couldn't agree with you more.”

So Robin made his drop and landed his boots on the attacker’s jaw, the sound it made ringing along with his relief of having closed the matter altogether.

* * *

**[6]**

If someone asked him the three reasons why the Falcone mafia group will always be listed under his—and _Batman’s_ , so to speak—watchlist, Robin would say the following: curse, crime, and power. It was not a well-known fact that the underground family utilized the broad abilities that curses possessed, from mass hallucination-induced manipulation to outright murder. Therefore, Robin was not surprised that their little investigation led them to an abandoned warehouse just by the outskirts of Gotham.

Though he never expected what they found would pull the rug under his feet.

Robin had more or less expected that the Falcones would eventually cross lines— _sobriety lines_ of the natural _order_ , or so Batman once told him—but he never expected _resurrection_ as among the things they would try _first_. Not to mention, it was more apparent now that they were trying to forcibly tie not a mere curse… but _The Curse_.

They had to stop this.

Thus, on the eve of their operation to steal the corpse of Jason’s mother, Robin was not surprised at the fervor exuded by the teen sitting at the back of their shared mindscape. Jason was driven to set things right, kicking some criminal butts along the way, and return her to her proper place.

But the Persona could feel how everybody in the room tensed when he diplomatically declared his intention.

Nightwing, who was leaning on the cavern wall, straightened his posture. Alfred might have shown nothing on his face, but Robin noticed a flicker of sadness and _pity_ as the man served their tea—as if the old butler had foreseen where this conversation would end up. Batman… the Dark Knight looked at him incredulously, as if Robin had uttered the worst offense possible.

“No,” Batman’s voice was filled with apprehension—one that made Jason’s fuse combusted internally, “your vessel is too involved in this case. He is a liability.”

Robin would have rebutted that by himself, but his perspective suddenly shifted; the words that he meant to utter did not flow out, replaced by _Jason_ ’s outburst, “That case is about _my mother._ My. _Mother_. I have every right to be involved in this op!”

“ _Jason_ ,” Nightwing cut in, because _of course_ the Persona knew that Robin had been forcefully switched out, unlike the Dark Knight who was _so_ ready to override Robin’s clutch on his vessel.

(Like the last time Robin was with Dick.)

Jason could have fumed further, but he chose to hold his gaze steady, as if waiting for the Batman to refute his argument, much to Robin’s surprise. Batman stared at them in both contemplation and displeasure, at least until its cowl dispersed into blackish particles, then revealing one stricken  _Bruce Wayne_ staring at the ward whom he had come to adore.

“Jay— _Son_ ,” and Robin could feel Jason flinch; Willis might have been his biological father, but _Bruce_ , as broken as he might be, was who Jason deemed as his  _dad_ , “I know that you want them to pay for the desecration they have caused. But for this particular case, I want you to stay here and trust us to do what needs to be done.”

There was an anger stemming from within the boy—a silent, grieving wish to destroy and _make things right_ —that reminded him of the night when the teen’s mother died. Robin witnessed as that anger defined the inner sanctum of the teen’s psyche, slowly transforming the core of his sleeping ( _formidable_ ) Wish into—

The Persona quickly (and quietly) wrapped the teen’s thoughts in serenity, trying his best to douse the slow-building inferno that threatened to drive the teen’s psyche somewhere he could not follow.

He made a wall if only to limit Jason’s righteous wish from anger that could twist him into _something else_ ; a wall made to _protect_.

“If it were Martha or Thomas, you would have gone no matter what,” the teen retorted lowly, “You cannot deny me this right, Bruce. _You will not_.”

The man turned stricken; any strangers would have translated this into defeat. But Robin was there when the man personally tended to Barbara's aid, a silent support amidst the chaos surrounding them, and he believed that Bruce was more stubborn than Jason had been.

“If it risks you to the Curse, Jason, I will.”

It was a simple promise, but it was enough. Robin could feel how that word transformed into an Order, putting down restraints over his independence, and the previously-curbed anger belonging to his vessel surging back, drowning his existing place in _red_.

Jason was livid, and it was defining his Wish.

Robin’s protection could only do so much.

The Persona closed his eyes as he watched Jason’s anger surged free, unknowingly twisting his vessel to be something else, and wondered if this was another prelude to the end.

* * *

  

**[extra]**

(The presence had no name, but it reeked of things Robin never liked—things he would rather Jason not to get involved with. It had no name because Jason still hadn't found _himself_ , despite every kind of agony which Gotham had flung him into.

Robin didn't like that presence.

Thus he shoved the presence under, along with the pent-up anger on which it _thrived_ , if only to provide Jason a chance for _better perspective_.

He would learn, much later, that it was to be his worst mistake.)

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me at [rantoffireflies.tumblr.com](http://rantoffireflies.tumblr.com).


End file.
